


Jacen Syndulla: forgotten

by Whenhopediesyoung



Series: Memories [1]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Jedi Knights, Not Happy, War, i'm sorry guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 07:42:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14280243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whenhopediesyoung/pseuds/Whenhopediesyoung
Summary: He can taste hatred on his tongue. They cannot; their tongues too weak to pick up in the rancid flavour. It's a gift passed down from his Jedi father, it will spell their downfall.A darkness threatens to blot out the stars.





	Jacen Syndulla: forgotten

   He can taste hatred, lingering on his tongue pungent but not unpleasent. It tastes like chocked down tears and bitter ash and blood sliding down a throat torn from screaming. They, the men- the monsters- holding him still and upright forcing him to  _watch_ ,cannot perceive it. Their muscle is too weak to pick up the tang which swiftly turns rancid in his mouth. Jacen Syndulla can sense the lost and far reaching devastation a gift from his Jedi father. Or perhaps his murdered mother.

   All about come the cries of the dying as he twists and squirms trying desperately to escape the horror. He can never be free of it. War clings to his mother's jumpsuit like a fog. To Uncle Alex's strong fingers locked on his squirting artery and wry look of understanding. To Zeb- "just Zeb Hera" grunts his memories bashful- turning away from his husband. His hoarse it's just one of those days. The agony that broad back brought Uncle Alex was worse then any angry hurting former victim. Maybe not worse then Jacen's look first of horrified understanding. And all the while war waits patient, in the shape of squeezed shut eyes, and shaky breaths.

   Here at last it finds him again. Or more accurately, it revels itself a magicians' trick once more. He knows war better then his father, more intimently then his mother. His fateful shadow his loyal dog.

Rage burns his throat, it's _unfair_ the war is over he should be allowed to rest. And he hates the new Republic their useless peacoking their comfort as the lives all around him, stars shining even more brightly through their distress, wink out. One by one. They should feel this, everyone the Republic the mysterious soldiers who lock their hands about his arms. Those who sleep well sure it is over.

He wails his anguished loathing. His shattered home. The broken form of his mother and the blood running down Alex's hands and leg. Sato. The Lestant. Pilots like little Alexsandria. Uncle Alex's parents. Rogue One. Everyone he heard or saw or felt their absence.

And because he is a Jedi his father's son. When he is finished screaming- howling really- all the lights are out. He rises alone, chorus of suffering finally, blessedly silent.

Years later, he will rise drawing on a pitch black mask. And Jacen Syndulla will be forgotten as well. As the fire dies out all that will remain is darkness. And Ren.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry guys. But I had to make a Syndulla becomes a Ren au that wasn't just, discrimination made me do it. I like to think that Hera raised a kid capable of surviving in spite of the hatred. So have a ptsd orphan trying to find some measure of quiet and end the hellish existance of a seemly unending and agonizing conflict I guess? Sorry.


End file.
